


Big Boys Don't Cry

by Fall



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: F/F, Season 2 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 07:42:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3969634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fall/pseuds/Fall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You don't get killed; You grow up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Big Boys Don't Cry

**Author's Note:**

> So far unbeta'd. Sorry.

Big boys don’t cry, say grown-ups. Mike gets it. Mum says - said it sometimes, too, and he's mommy's good boy, he always listens. He learns something every single minute, from reading or people speaking, mainly observing. He just looks, very carefully, and then he knows. Yeah, he's that smart and it hurts when it comes to- 

He knows the instance someone from the hospital calls. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” said her, must have thought he's much older, giving his polite tone and proper phrasing on the phone, “Mr. Ross, I’m sorry your parents didn't make it, but I assure you they didn't suffer much.”

Of course, thought Mike. They died at the scene.

He didn't cry, he wanted to throw up. Gram was alarmed that he got to the phone and she peeled his fingers from it, finally getting the truth (and the sadness). She wrapped Mike with her arms. 

They hurried to the hospital. To collect the bodies. 

It didn't take long, all of that. The funeral was decent, Mike threw the dust, watching them settling down smoothly and slowly in the air, to the hole they dipped, on the coffins. It was fascinating. It felt like a lifetime. Gram took his hand. They were the last to leave. He didn't wear a suit. Mum would love to see him in a suit, though; she always wanted to get him in a suit, planning on sending him to one of those boy schools and all the way to Ivy League, and a profession in suits. Mike would have made her proud.

Mike’s going to make her proud. 

He never shed a tear, not at all. Because mum says- said big boys don’t cry and Mike turned 8. He turned 9. Then came 10 and 11. He’s getting to 12 when Gram holds his hand, warm eyes with worries, tells him that she's concerned. It’s okay to cry, Michael, it's been years. It’s one thing to grieve, nothing moving on is another. I've got you, Michael. You can cry.

He tells Gram big boys don’t cry, certainly. He can tell from Gram's lips that she's about to say “nonsense” but she cuts herself off.

“Everyone has the right to cry, Michael.”

“It’s not-”

“It doesn't have to be written in the constitution, Michael.” Well, Gram knows him too well. “It’s being human.”

“Yeah?”

“And everyone has basic rights to be oneself, that’s somewhere in the law, I’m pretty sure- no, dear, I'm not asking you to recite them for me, just so you know- we are sentimental creatures, Michael, we live by expressing our emotions, or we explode one day. It won’t be pretty and neat, so we’d better watch our back and - do it whenever necessary. Laugh. Joke. Scream if you must, just stay out of the ear range of an old woman like me, and cry it out when you feel like it. You don’t have to. You can.”

And that’s when he breaks eventually, soaking the shoulder of hers. It's also fascinating - how could a little man like him shed so much tears that she looked as if rain poured all over her? He's sure he ain't no creature made of water. He's human, remember? Thus he cries. Because he could, obviously, it's his right. 

“I’m gonna write it into the constitution when I’m elected for President, Grammy.”

“Oh, and my boy decides he’s going to run for head of states now?”

“Nope. Just saying. I might, but not really in the mood, you know?”

“Alright. What’s the plan ahead anyway, young man?”

“I don’t know, Gram.” Lie. He dreams a lot about said future, defending poor souls in court, helping people. Make sure nobody gets hurt like he does years ago, it’s always better ways to express your points of view, no need to be such an ass, that sort of things. “Maybe somebody in a suit. I think I can rock them.”

“You surely do, Michael.”

And turns out he ends up faking to be a lawyer. In suits indeed. He wishes his parents would not be disappointed, at least he got to wear suits, alright? It’s something. He really tried. Studying’s never the difficult part, living his life is. He struggles and suffers, holding himself together because he has to, he needs to be strong for Gram. And crying is for babies, save ye tears Mike, you would go dehydrated if you cry too much and you can’t afford it. You need your strength to get through life. You need your strength to observe and think quickly, so that you won’t get caught by the cops. You need your strength to run, like really fast, to get away, to stumble into one certain conference room and therefore, meet Harvey Specter. 

You need strength to fall in love with the man. You don’t cry because he doesn't care, you won’t cry even if he cares. It doesn't matter at all, crying is a waste of time, and you rather save yourself time to work your ass off. Technically speaking it's for him, he’s the boss after all, but you really do it for yourself. It’s your life and you choose it that way. You appreciate it that way. He appreciates you the same way. You know you ain't no normal couple on the streets, you two are different and difficult as life itself. Phenomenal. Fascinating and all. You are you, in love with each other, dance in the battlefield. 

Love is at war, and growing up if you were not to die on the field. There always will be conflicts, people are so different that we could sing to it; cheers and down the drink in one! This will not be the excuse though. The thing is they've got to learn from each other. They fight, all the time, and it’s okay, as long as they don’t actually fight. Mike would not have laid a hand on Harvey, and he knows Harvey wouldn't. This makes the two of them. They may be at war, but they don't send our soldiers to die. They’re their own soldiers. They negotiate, they present their exhibits, they do not lie under the oath of love, they settle, or they part our ways. They’re what they are. 

“Harvey, ye a lawyer, and so am I. We do things at our pace. ”

And they take the lessons seriously because that’s their life. The life of being in love with a nerdy Trekkie, he may add.

“And I will certainly not cry over ya saying Captain Kirk is the man.”

“Watch your tone, Rookie. Captain Kirk is the man.”

Thus Mike bursts into tears. Only because he laughs too hard.


End file.
